The Paper War
by Night Strider
Summary: Shohoku’s school paper sparks up a fight between Mitsui’s and Rukawa’s fan club. A non love story, non yaoi fic about who’s hotter between the two. One shot.


The Paper War

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

I also don't own Paris Hilton, her parents do. Thank the world for that.

I do own the female OC's.

Summary: Shohoku's school paper sparks up a fight between Mitsui's and Rukawa's fan club. A non love story/non yaoi fic about who's hotter between the two. One shot.

A/N: I'd like to say that I don't know what hell happened to my vocabulary; yesterday I tried to write something on my blog and it wasn't long before I noticed that I paused at after every word just to find the pat word to fit. Now, I have this new idea for this fic but I am sure as I'm breathing that this vocabulary deficit would spoil the flow of my narration. My apologies…but enjoy in any case.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'This is fucking horrible; it sounds like Paris Hilton trying to be intelligent.'

'And that gives you license to mutilate what I've worked for for a whole goddamn week? Honestly, Motoko, you're a witch or anything that rhymes with the word.'

'Just because I did what's right with your crap doesn't mean you're licensed to call me by my last name, girl.'

'I have my own name too so don't call me girl.'

'That's what you are.'

'Alright then I shall call you Mother Bitch.'

'Much better, that's my middle name.'

'I quit.'

'Good idea, because I'm firing you.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

Nothing was heard after except Makino Kaioh's heavy set of footsteps that echoed along the barren corridor of Shohoku High. She was pissed like hell, otherwise she wouldn't have forgotten to slam the door behind her which she always did if she was pissed on a normal level or, say, just simply pissed like if she was late or running a rushed errand or something no big deal. But today was big time, really; and she had to be so unsettled that she didn't have what it took to express her anger correctly. She just walked out, that's it.

The door swung lightly through the air and a sign read clearly on the board hanging on it; Shohoku Tribune. That was the name of the school paper. It was meant to sound august like a national publication because the paper was LARGE; large in the sense that it had a big publication. A big audience, however, was another matter.

Inside the office sat the culprit who broke poor Ms. Kaioh's heart; Aoi Motoko, the editor in chief. Fear inspiring, fierce, mad, and enthusiastic with a face that shouted the word BITCH in capital letters. The same one who demanded an incredible budget for the school paper the moment she put her ass on the editor's throne, which also explains the hugeness of the paper's circulation regardless of the acute imbalance in the ratio of publication/audience count. For some strange reason, the former always outnumbered the latter because, hard it was to accept the cruel fact, nobody really read the paper far less got serious about it.

What exactly was wrong with Shohoku Tribune?

Nothing crucial, except that the target readers, i.e., the Shohoku students, weren't interested, the writers were a pack of 'talentless wankers', and the editor-in-chief was a crazed control freak cum Grammar Police who discovered and invented the term for reason number two, much to the futile annoyance of the whole staff. She had this unusual fervor for editing (funny eh?) and got pretty ticked off whenever she spotted corrigenda in her beloved school magazine. Actually, she'd bitch out completely if her eyes bounced on a misplaced punctuation. Her favorite subject was copyreading. Go figure.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'What's new?' Mitsui stepped in room 304, sixteen minutes after the bell sounded.

'Hisashi,' Hotta greeted the gang leader. 'Teacher's not in, lucky you to miss another tardiness this time. Anyway, Kaioh-san's not looking good.' Hotta pointed at a disheveled girl scowling in the corner.

'What gives?' Mitsui followed Hotta's finger.

'Err, seems like another wrangling with the editor.'

'Mother Bitch?'

'Motoko, yeah.'

'What about?'

'She said Motoko called her Paris Hilton, and skulked the whole fifteen minutes after that.'

'That's not hot.' Mitsui said, leaned back on his chair and fixed his bangs to give it a gravity defying do.

'She's hot.'

'Who?' Mitsui raised his eyebrows in a perfectly curled perplexity.

'Paris is.'

'She's a spoiled stupid whore.'

'Is she really now?'

'She's brain-dead, no wonder Kaioh is so distressed.' Mitsui frowned, and gave further study to the not looking good Kaioh. 'What did Kaioh write about this time, Hotta?'

'I don't know; probably another crappy emergency beauty tips for girls when they're in a math class.' Hotta said aloud which earned dagger looks from the girls around them. One girl swooped down to the conversation even before anyone invited her.

'Excuse me? But I think she wrote a feature article about Kaede Rukawa; I read it before anyone else did and I think it was awesome. Poor Kaioh, she was sure it was going to reshape the fate of the paper after everyone read it. Motoko is such a bitch.' The girl harrumphed.

'Well that's even worse; she should be fired for that.' Mitsui stated with a frank innocence in his eyes. The girl's mouth transformed into a bemused 'O'.

'Motoko did fire her.' Hotta said.

'Serves everybody right.'

'What did you say, Mitsui?' The girl said.

'Nothing.'

'You said something very far from nothing, actually.'

'When I say 'nothing', it means a lot. You got problem with that? And I find it hard to believe that your doctor just diagnosed you with bitchiness and deafness.'

'If I have known better, Mr. I'm So Good Plug Ugly, you are just jealous.'

'Jealous? Me? And why is that?'

'Because Rukawa gets all attention while you're always sidelined in the fans' list.'

'Right, I so envy the stupid fox because slutty, Pedophilic skanks tail him around like a shadow. And don't talk me out of his pathetic fan club; I would slit my wrist if there's even a single hotshot among their lot.' Mitsui sneered, releasing an I-mean-you tone. It didn't exactly hit home.

'Uh sorry, wrong address. I don't stalk Rukawa around but I do think I like him better than you, and I'm not the only one who thinks that way.' The girl seethed. 'I'm really sorry to say this, but your chauvinistic dicky self isn't bringing you any notch up, yeah.'

Mitsui didn't say anything. Prolonging this kind of lethargic argument would only get to his nerves even if he could say something as venomous as 'I don't like you to like me, either. I'm allergic to dumb people.' Instead, he veered his gaze to the classroom door under an air of perusal.

'What are you doing?' The girl asked, obviously wanting to continue the unpleasant exchange. She seemed to be winning it and liked to make sure that she defeated the former MVP in overkill.

'I'm making sure that the way to the exit is clear for you.'

'Jerk.'

'Bitch.'

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

A frown is like a smile; it varies in degrees of meaning. Sometimes it hesitates between a smile and disbelief, sometimes it's just instinct, sometimes it's definite and singular like anger itself. Aoi Motoko found herself ironically frowning in front of her laptop that fresh morning on July the second. She had been twisting her face in this kind of frown the whole twelve hours and almost all of her sentences ended up in profanity. Under normal circumstances, she would just let a bummer make her day and forget about it as soon as she stormed out of her room. But the loss of a feature writer for Shohoku Tribune was a total bitch, especially now that the issue of her cruelty to Ms. Kaioh was fast becoming a damn controversy and the next release was just 3 days away! Hence, her nerves were sparked like a chewed circuit. And this anonymous e-mail she was reading now just capped it all.

Hi Motoko-san,

Attached is the EDITED article for the feature section. Now I know you're sullen and all because of the departure of your feature writer but that shouldn't be a problem now because I will fill in for the newly unoccupied position. Yes, I am the new writer and that's not a request. More like a favor for you and your pathetic school paper. I know nobody reads that shit because your crap about stupid girl stuff isn't exactly selling out and your readers act as though they're illiterate, and I'm here to turn things around, if you got what I mean.

Anyhow, if I will be working for the Tribune I shall go by the name Mitchy Lover and I shall make a few policy arrangements effective. Number 1, I will be sending my articles via e-mail, ergo, I am not going to meet personally with you so I can protect my identity. Second, my articles are ALL about the basketball club and believe me when I say that it's a brilliant idea because the school populace would surely dig it. Unlike Kaioh's flirty feministic bulldung. Last, I know you butcher articles until all that's left with them are your own, grammatically very correct haughty words; I don't want that. I want the whole of my piece published and your ONLY job is to get rid of the typos. Okay? I know I am being a bitch, but trust me, YOU NEED ME.

Motoko fumed.

'What a bitch!' She shrieked, and what a fucking lame name. Only a bloody mad bitch could belittle her like this, and not just a bitch; but a bitch who got her blood boiling over Motoko. She could find a roomful of candidates and sad to say, most of the faces that popped out of her imagination belonged to the writers' staff. Thanks to her infamous bitchiness, she really got her own hate club. Who knew if there was already a fansite for her?

She was about to jam the keyboard down when she remembered the first sentence: Attached is the edited article for the feature section. She was desperate; with the deadline drawing to a close, she could only choose to panic and maybe…to give this Mitchy Lover a chance, whatever the fuck she was up to. She couldn't really believe herself, couldn't even think that she was considering Mitchy Lover much as her pride protested against it. But yeah, she was a little chickened out that things that she refused to do might actually mean something, or a lot.

She clicked on the 'attached files' to read the said vaunted article.

TITLE: Things That a Good, Cool Basketball Player Should Know.

ONE) Don't be a prick. Stop thinking that you're so cool you're actually ignoring the whole school.

TWO) Don't sleep during school hours and burden the whole team with your stupid failing marks.

THREE ) Pink bike is so lame. Only the circus has any use for it.

FOUR) Tousled hair is outdated. Slight green dye is even worse.

FIVE) A darker complexion is modernly hunky; fair skin is so medieval.

SIX) Monosyllable is not going to work in life. 'Yes' and 'No' are definitely not enough for an answer. Ever heard of explaining yourself?

SEVEN ) A greater range of facial expression would help.

EIGHT) Hogging the ball all by yourself is a major turn off; maybe you could use a little thing called sharing for a better team work.

NINE) Dunking is overrated and is exclusive for show offs only.

TEN) Being a freshman in a team is pretty helpless so stop hoping to rise in stardom in such a short span of time.

ELEVEN) This jersey number sucks.

Signed,

Mitchy Lover

A piece bashing Kaede Rukawa? Motoko blinked a few times after reading it. It was a little too direct, too conspicuous, and…too eye-catching. It was a little over brave, frank and controversial. And wasn't controversy what the paper needed for a wider audience in the scale? As a rule, yes that's what they needed, what the readers were craving for. And this Mitchy Lover…no wonder she didn't want to be named. The Rukawa fan club would bury her in the school yard alive after they skinned her for sure. But she was right; the article was perfect. And Motoko felt like smiling to herself. She didn't like Rukawa as well and finding someone on the same boat was a relief.

She had found the right writer for the position.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'I will kill the bitch!' Girl number One piped up as she wrinkled the Shohoku Tribune between her shaky hands.

'What? Burn the honest? I think this Mitchy Lover is brilliant.' Girl number Two said.

'Yeah, I'm not really annoyed at Rukawa but this is like so true.' Girl number Three said.

'True? This is a deluded work of a frenzied hater! This is crap. Argghhh! We need a defense group, we can't let anyone humiliate Rukawa-kun like this.' Girl number Four screamed hysterically.

'Agree! This useless thing is only showing the shallow side of Rukawa that his haters want to see and making a bad face out of them. I am not going to tolerate this!' Girl number Five said.

'Hahaha! Whatever you say, man. I don't care; this shit amuses me. I want to read it again and again.' Another girl said as the havoc went on to pervade the crazed building.

Motoko smiled as she passed the girls. People were actually reading the paper, and not just reading it; they were actually brainstorming over it and even arguing! And that never happened before; whatever she owed to Mitchy Lover, she owed it big. It was certainly an effective step.

Until now, none of the students ever came up to Motoko to complain about the article's libelous content. They couldn't just point an accusing finger to the Mother Bitch, could they? Talk about the advantages of being an invulnerable Bitch. She was liking it.

In the gym…

'What's new?'

'Mitsui…the school's in a terrible hubble. Look at what this says about Rukawa.' Miyagi handed Mitsui a copy of the Tribune.

'I've seen it.'

'That's the best thing that the stupid paper wrote, ever.' Sakuragi joined in.

'How do you know? You've only been in this school for five months. And besides, you haven't read any other issue of it except this.' Ayako argued.

'Yeah, but that's the first time they said something 'nice' about Rukawa so that makes it the best. Nyahaha!'

Sigh.

'Hey Mitsui, do you know who this Mitchy Lover is? I have a feeling she's into you.' Miyagi turned to the senior.

'Nope. But I'm proud of her whoever she is, fan or not.'

'Will you stop talking as if Rukawa's not here?' Haruko suddenly burst out from the side courts. The article caused her enough fits since its release and seeing the team without sympathy for her dear Rukawa only aggravated her mood.

'Whatever you say, ma'am.' Mitsui smiled and winked at her. He could've thrown a hankie on her shoulder if he had one.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Five days later.

'What's this?'

Motoko eyed one particular message in her inbox. It was entitled 'Counter' from a certain someone named Rukawa Fan.

Her pupils perked up with strange curiosity; something about it told her that it was worth giving a read, just like what she felt when she first saw Mitchy Lover's message. Speaking of whom, Motoko made a point of thanking her several times every time she heard people praising or whining about the article. She was thankful. She really was. What kind of genius would it take to repeat the feat Mitchy Lover had accomplished?

She clicked on Rukawa Fan's message.

Motoko-san,

I'm a fan of Rukawa, a rabid one, if it's not obvious enough. Well, straight to the point; I won't let Mitchy Lover off that easy so I'm offering another article to counter her bullshit since the prejudice has gone overboard already. Thus, expect this to be no less mean. Attached is the piece.

Motoko clicked on the attachment.

TITLE: Things to Justify Mr. Rukawa and His Coolness

ONE) If he's being a prick, that's because a lot find it cool. So don't be a dick, Ms. You Know Who You Are, because you're a cunt.

TWO) He sleeps during school hours because the class is boring and he's being physically abused during practice. Really, it's none of your filthy business.

THREE)Pink bike is cute. Ask his female fans.

FOUR) Tousled hair defines what's cute to us; spiky is a failed attempt to look like a punk which is stupid. His greenish hair is natural; ain't anything you can do about it.

FIVE) Fair skin is romantically hunky. Flesh is as common as dark Japanese hair.

SIX) Monosyllable equals snobbishness taken to sophisticated level equals hotness. Yes or no equals mystery equals hotness. That's our (expedient mathematical) explanation, loser.

SEVEN) Blank expression rocks.

EIGHT) Hogging the ball signifies confidence. He doesn't share it because his team mates are up to no good.

NINE) Dunking is like the best shot one can manage, and the best way to assert masculinity. Any other shot besides is lameness.

TEN) Being a freshman is being fresh, hence the term. Being a senior is to have wobbly knees and white hair, or cheaply blue dyed one.

ELEVEN) Skip

TWELVE) Skip

THIRTEEN) Skip

FOURTEEN) This jersey number sucks worse.

Yours,

Rukawa Fan

Motoko laughed aloud, this time she was sure she wasn't going to grin at wrong faces again. It meant yes, the article was going to the feature page, even if the items number ten and fourteen angered Mitsui's fans. Darn, she hated Mitsui too.

She had found another right writer for the paper. Lucky her.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'Who's the fuckwitted fucker who wrote this?'

'Cool down, Mitchy, the name's right below the article.' Hotta tried to calm down his boss.

'I know, stupid. But who's the bitch? Surely her parents wouldn't name her Rukawa Fan; I would kill myself if it were me.'

'Obviously she's a fan of Rukawa.'

'Right, and it's so easy to guess who because Rukawa has no fan club with one hundred million whorish members.' Mitsui spat sarcastically.

'Err, I don't even want to find out.'

'You better do it, Hotta!'

'Mitsui, just let it drop…'

'What do you mean let it drop? Hell, this bitch insulted me in the face!'

'But boss, it will surely die down. It's just a stupid blabber from a stupid girl; let's just stay out of this, shall we?'

'No.'

'Mitsui, I'm sure…'

'No means no, Hotta; unless they altered the stupid fucking dictionary it doesn't mean anything else, and for Pete's sake will you tuck your shirt out before they award you with the Good Boy's medal? Now, I want you to nail the bitch's ass!'

'Ah, okay, okay boss. Sure…'

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

At the washroom…

'How perfectly true.'

'It's not as well written as Mitchy Lover's.'

'Who cares? The point is established. I want to find out who this Rukawa Fan is; she could as well be Rukawa-kun's fan Club's new president.'

'What? The Brainless Gits Association's new president? I'll pray for her soul if that's the case.'

'Shut up, bitch.'

'Whore.'

Motoko emerged from the cubicle. The article was the talk of the town! She was really loving it.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

1 and a half weeks later…

'Let me see it.' A girl grabbed the Tribune's new copy and burned a hole in it with her eyes. 'Why, Motoko let that bitch write the editor's note? Where did her almighty bitchy pride go this time?'

Dear readers,

I am very much obliged to you for the interest you have shown in the paper for the last fourteen days, and am glad to inform you that the paper hasn't known better days. I want you to know that readership is the priority of our vision and with that comes the mission to provide you with awareness. However, the second release of the paper seemed to have missed the value of dignity, and to our shame, of honesty. We are totally inconvenienced and devastated to learn that a pathological liar under the nom de plume Rukawa Fan exchanged my article with her own (through suspiciously surreptitious means) and thus her lies were proliferated through the said issue, particularly the feature section. On that note, we would like to apologize to you, our dear readers, for the miss and would like to ask you to turn a blind eye to what you have read. Ms. Rukawa Fan is probably just a fat, untalented and hideous young girl who has an eye for Rukawa but couldn't possibly do anything better than to goggle her aspiring eye at the freshman. Thank you for your understanding.

Signed,

Mitchy Lover

'Ha! Nice one, Mitchy lover. It's a breath of fresh air to have someone else write in the editor's note; Motoko's always babbling hypocritical bullshit in her own.' A tall girl leaned over the paper.

'This is crazy. Rukawa Fan has to do something about this. This Mitchy Lover is such an ass and Motoko is no better!' Rukawa's fans shrieked.

Motoko just kept quiet.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Another five days had elapsed and the school received a double shocker upon learning that Rukawa Fan signed the 4th issue's editor's note.

Dear readers,

I want to clear the mess Mitchy Lover wrote in the last issue's editor's note. First, we are both entitled to write on the feature section so it is definitely unreasonably untrue that I sneaked my way to the publishing house and placed my article over hers. Second, my opinion also counts on the ground that we represent two conflicting groups' insights. Lastly, the fact that I'm this issue's writer for the editor's note accounts for my legit position so there's no point calling me a liar, just a passionate human rights pioneer. If there's someone who's guilty of shooting lies all over the place, it's Mitchy Lover. She's just probably an old, coal colored hag with missing teeth pretending to be a teenager with a perfect ass. So thank you for the time.

Yours,

Rukawa Fan

None of the students even bothered to care that the Tribune was releasing issues too frequently. All they wanted was to read the goods from the two suddenly popular writers.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

August the first.

Motoko was shaken by a weak vibration inside her pockets. She reached out for her cell phone and opened a message from Mitchy Lover.

I want the fat bitch's cell no. The message said.

What fat bitch? Motoko replied.

Mother Bitch means you. Fat Bitch is Rukawa Fan.

What's your plan? Motoko hastily replied.

I'm burning her ass today at KFC, at two o' clock.

Motoko didn't hesitate and gave Rukawa Fan's cell number. The exchange smelled hot and she wasn't about to let it off without her in the actuality. And besides, she was dying to find out who these mystery writers were.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

KFC, two thirty-five pm.

The fast food's white tables lay tumbled on the floor, the chairs were overturned and a number of disposable cups scattered on the recently mopped tiles. None of the customers had touched their food, and their eyes twinkled at the spectacle.

The manager was hysterical. A lot of horrified eyes were diluted in disbelief. Motoko was shaking from her seat a few feet away from where Rukawa and Mitsui were standing. Mitsui was nursing a swollen eye while Rukawa was wiping droplets of blood dripping from his mouth.

'You dare call me an old, coal colored hag with missing teeth, you dick face. You don't even have the guts to write anything with literary goodness in it; all you could do is plagiarize my work like what you did in your crap!' Mitsui's voice trembled as he staggered with his ankle to position himself straight. His purpled knuckles were balled in tightness.

'You started that crap, motherfucker.' Rukawa spat at the senior.

'So what? I was being honest. Why didn't you just keep quiet, for humanity's sake! And who the hell would think that you give a crap about what people think about you? I didn't even know you could think!' Mitsui yelled.

'I didn't know you could think too. And you're the first one to call me a fat, untalented and hideous young girl.' Rukawa replied.

'Oh yeah. I was thinking if I was being a jerk in lambasting you like that but it turned out that you're a bigger jerk for coming back at me. Jerk.' Mitsui smirked at Rukawa.

'I was just being reasonable. I'm surprised you don't know what reason is. Figures.' Rukawa's last word rang in pungent sarcasm and the insinuation snapped the last of Mitsui's patience.

'Reasonable my ass! Fuck morals!' Mitsui jumped on Rukawa again only to pick out a loud gasp from the audience and cause another set of tables to collapse on the floor. Mitsui was on top of the struggling Rukawa as a few disillusioned young men started to close on the two and held on to their arms. In a few moments, the two players stood face to face with several arms restraining their angry forces.

Motoko was still watching the two, trying hard to analyze what was going on between them. Fierce rivalry? Must be. She had to witness her perpetration of the deed in its worst case scenario and had to suffer the punishment, all in a maximum 35 minute hell of her life. She controlled her trembling, if it was an attempt to hide her uneasiness it turned out to be a bare one because her limbs were still jerking. She couldn't help but to partly blame herself for this, her and her little trick that didn't reach any meaningful extent. What a major shame. She wanted to cry, not because she had ruined the team mates' brotherhood if there was any, but because she had nothing to do with the paper's success. She hoped for her sake that Rukawa and Mitsui and their funny paper war brought joy to them. It certainly did for a while, and now it had to end because the sick reality had seized the occasion. Right; Mitsui and Rukawa were both insane and now a battle of sanity and insanity was taking place inside her, with neither ready to concede defeat. Was she better than the two? At least she wouldn't go as far as pretending to be her own avid fan just to protect her own cause. But she did sacrifice some rules to place herself on top of the world, like letting the two's stupid articles in the paper! Yeah, it was Mitsui and Rukawa's fault…

'Stop it, you slobs!' She blared at the two, at long fucking last. Her words seemed to have stung like a wrestler's blow and Rukawa and Mitsui turned their amused gaze to her. 'Fucking morons! What kind of flea would write anything like that in the school paper for the public to see? Why don't you just lock yourselves in the shower and tell each other 'you suck' all day long till you're both dead and we're all glad!'

'And what kind of frigid bitch would let two mortal enemy-feature authors write in one section and publish their say alternately?' Mitsui growled at her. 'You know, if you weren't a stuck-on-yourself witch, you wouldn't have let this faggot publish his reply.'

'That's not fair, at least I have to put my opinion too.' Rukawa argued.

'Nothing's fair because I got the idea first!'

'Shut up!' Motoko shrieked at them. 'I'm out of this, you toddler-acting turds.' She grabbed her things and tried to walk out of the door but,

'Yeah and you should be out of the paper too.' Mitsui smirked.

'What?'

'I'm telling everyone what you did. And if I read the laws correctly; the editor is liable to any scandal the paper faces, and I'm sure what happened today is nothing short of a scandal, if you get my drift.' Mitsui finished triumphantly.

'You can't do that.'

'Yes, I can! Nobody was just hard enough to stand up to your bitchiness before so I'm going to do that myself, and I'm gonna do that for the countless others who've been whipped in the face by your 'queer' penchant for CORRECT grammar. Now you go home and better start crying on your damned bed.' Mitsui blared.

'Right.' Rukawa rejoined.

'You too?' Motoko glared at the freshman, surprised.

'Yeah, recalcitrant bitch.'

'Uh, you'll see.' Motoko walked out and slammed the door.

Mitsui took Rukawa's wrist.

'Let's get out of here, Rukawa.' He told him. The freshman nodded until,

'Ehem,' It was the manager. 'if I'm right in thinking, boys, you have something to tidy up.' He eyed the two with a stern glare and shifted his eyes on the messy floor.

The two exchanged glances, 'Uh, yes sir.'

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

'What happened?' a girl in a pony tail asked her friend.

'They fired Motoko, right?'

'Yes. But what about Mitsui and Rukawa?'

'They're cashing in extra hours in the gym for maintenance; Akagi was furious as hell at the KFC incident.'

'Hmmm. I would certainly miss their articles; I didn't know they were gifted in writing too.'

'Gifted if you talk about insulting each other. But honestly, pretending to be girls and their own fans goofed me out.'

'You're right.' The girls giggled.

'And hey, did you know Makino Kaioh is the new editor-in-chief?'

'So that must mean another 'readerless' period for the Tribune. Sigh. She and her crowd bored us, remember?'

'Yeah, but I read the article she's going to put in the feature section for the next issue. It's entitled 'The Mystery that is Kiminobu Kogure'. It was kinda cool, you know; I mean, it's just good that they started writing about Shohoku Team instead of the same old routine of how to be beautiful crap.'

'You say so. But why Kogure?'

'She realized Kogure sempai is really hot right after she learned about Rukawa's pretense to be his own fan, that Rukawa Fan entity. It's a big turn-off for his admirers. I don't blame them; it's truly downright low.'

'Alright. After Mitsui and Rukawa there's Kogure sempai. So we're still not rid of media biases, are we?'

'No, I suppose. But that's life.'

'Yeah, that's life.'

END

a/n: Ah! Long one. I know. That's a lesson for all of you who want to write for Philippine Tagalog tabloids. Hahaha! Stop libel! Just kidding.

Reviews would be nice.


End file.
